


Catch a Falling Star

by victoria_p (musesfool)



Series: Dog Days of Summer [27]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: dogdaysofsummer, First Kiss, M/M, Marauders' Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-08-27
Updated: 2005-08-27
Packaged: 2018-03-20 06:52:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3640854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musesfool/pseuds/victoria_p
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s easier to be brave in his head and in all the letters he’s written but never sent than it is to tell Remus in person.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catch a Falling Star

Sirius’s face is smudged with soot and his smile is wide and maniacal as they run from the scene of their latest prank. James and Peter are under the invisibility cloak, which no longer fits the four of them the way it did when they were eleven, and though Sirius could change into Padfoot to escape, that would leave Remus alone in the streets of Godric’s Hollow, the obvious culprit, so he doesn’t. They’ll go down together if they get caught. James would thump him for such a soppy thought, and Remus himself would snort and give him a scornful look, but Sirius can’t seem to help it.

He doesn’t think Remus knows, and he’s been working up the nerve all week--all summer, really, but it’s easier to be brave in his head and in all the letters he’s written but never sent than it is to tell him in person, when just the accidental brush of his hand against Sirius’s arm or thigh can make Sirius’s whole body vibrate like a tuning fork.

Smoke and chaos follow them as the fireworks continue to explode behind them, lighting up the clear night sky with bursts of red and gold. Sirius is too busy looking up to pay attention to what his feet are doing. He steps on Remus’s heel and they both go tumbling to the grass, long legs entangling, still too awkward from recent growth spurts to have complete control of their bodies.

They roll and flop, breathing hard from running, from laughing, and, in Sirius’s case, from desperate longing that feels like it’s going to rise up and choke him if he doesn’t finally say or do something, _anything_ , to let Remus know how he feels.

He opens his mouth, but the words don’t come out. He’s unused to being speechless--not even his mother strips the words away from him the way Remus does. The feel of Remus’s body pressed against him, shaking with laughter, smelling of smoke and summer and boysweat as they lie on the grass, turns him into a gibbering idiot with a hard-on.

He watches Remus’s face change--laughter melting into curiosity--and then he leans in and closes his eyes. He can smell the pumpkin juice on Remus’s breath a moment before he tastes it, lips pressing to warm, chapped lips, tongue dipping tentatively between those lips, parted on a gasp that Sirius hopes isn’t angry.

Then Remus’s fingers twine through Sirius’s hair, holding him close when he tries to pull away, to breathe, and Sirius has his answer. They lie in the grass for a long while, exchanging laughing kisses that taste of smoke and evening air, and trading amazed touches that promise even more exciting things when they are in private, as the night sky fills with falling stars.

*


End file.
